


Let It Go

by NovemberVisionary



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberVisionary/pseuds/NovemberVisionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Moira’s funeral leaves everyone grieving, but it is short-lived after an appearance of a person from the past. Oliver needs to deal with the chaos, and Felicity is there, like always, to give him strength and wisdom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Go

**Author's Note:**

> I mentally debated this one A LOT. I had this headcanon in my head right after 2x20. It’s not my best work, and a bit rough, but I could not hold this story in my head. It needed to be written. Please comment with any suggestions/ideas.
> 
> *Special thanks to absentlyabbie and verdantprogrammer via tumblr for their help!
> 
> Check me out on tumblr :) - [dork84](http://www.dok84.tumblr.com)

The rain pattered on the canopy of black umbrellas in the cemetery. The weather accented the somber setting:  Moira Queen’s funeral.  With Oliver and Thea in utter distress, Walter took charge of the arrangements - from the simple, but sleek mahogany casket to the white gladiolus bouquet on her coffin, the flower representing “strength of character.”  It was an apt floral choice, as her final act epitomized a mother’s ultimate sacrifice to protect her children.

Thea had not said a word to Oliver after the traumatizing event, and she stood a safe distance next to him, staring at the coffin. She was still in shock and could barely move. Laurel linked her arms with hers, but she felt no comfort from the gesture. She was an empty soul inhabiting a shell.

Laurel too barely kept her composure, her lips quivering with every Bible verse the priest recited. She felt the cold absence of two family members that night, Moira, and Sara.  She hoped her hugs and occasional assurances would show Oliver that she loved all of him, including the Arrow.

Diggle stood stiffly, hands in his pockets, and he kept his head down. Times like these words sounded empty and even condescending. He would be the rock of reason and solidarity for his loved ones when they needed him to be. He had attended too many funerals to know anything else. And, Felicity stood on the other side of him, as she quietly blew her nose in a handkerchief. Regardless of what Moira did to her, she grieved for Oliver. She peered over at him, whose eyes were brimming with tears. She held her hand out and he squeezed it tightly.

The coffin was cranking lower, nearly at the bottom. A funeral worker handed him a shovel, but he waved him off and kneeled to the muddy ground. He fisted some dirt, still holding onto Felicity’s hand. As he threw it on the coffin, Thea gasped. Oliver slowly followed his sister’s line of sight and tightened his grip on Felicity’s hand. Lurking in the far distance beneath a tree was Malcolm Merlyn, in his Dark Archer costume. Just as quickly, he vanished.  

He definitely was in town and was sending a silent send-off to Moira and letting know Thea he was back. Malcolm was never shy in theatricality.

“You need to come with me. We’re not safe here,” Oliver warned, ushering Thea toward the limo.

“Wait, Ollie,” Laurel piped in, grabbing his forearm. “Be careful.”

“You’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. _Protect_ her. Go.” Oliver kept his gaze locked on hers, and he briefly covered her hand over his arm and walked away. 

They rushed to the car as Diggle and Felicity climbed in. “Diggle, Verdant.”

“Why the hell is he here? It’s not like he cared for her or me. And what makes you think you can protect me from him? He’s only killed half of the Glades including Tommy!” Thea screamed, tears flowing freely immediately after mentioning her half-brother.

Oliver exhaled slowly, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together. Thea knew her brother too well to not pick up on his nervous tics, and something wasn’t sitting well with her. He appeared to be debating something in his head. He very subtly nodded to Felicity before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in.

 “Thea, remember how Mom said there shouldn’t be any secrets?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I remember everything afterward too. It doesn’t matter now,” she said, turning her head away from him and stared at the window.

“Thea, I wanted to protect you. “ The words sounded half-hearted to his ears. “But, there is something you need to know.”

“You’re sounding exactly like Mom, Ollie. You’re scaring me,” she said, as she turned to face him again.

“I’m sorry I have to tell you like this, but you deserve to know. I’m…the Arrow.”

“Oh…my…god. This is not happening to me. This is not happening to me,” she mumbled to herself, as she buried her head in her hands. When she looked up, her eyes darkened and they filled with resentment. “These past two years, you could have filled me in _anytime._ Any god damn time!” She slammed her fist against the seat, punctuating each word. “I should have known. I had my suspicions, but shame on me for trusting that my brother would tell me that truth. I guess that’s too much to ask. I don’t know you at all.” The last words brought Oliver back to revealing the truth to Tommy, but the words seared through him more now than before.

The rest of the brief car ride was spent in deafening silence.  

“Thea, I know you hate me, but please come with us downstairs. You’ll be most protected there. at least have Diggle watch over you,” Oliver said, as they stepped out of the car.  
“No, Ollie. I don’t _hate_ you. This would be a lot easier if I did. I’m hurt because you didn’t think I was worth enough to be told the truth until it served you best,” she said coldly, and walked toward Diggle. Oliver tightly clenched his jaws.

“I will not go to your ‘Arrow quarters’ or whatever you call it. You can protect me, right?” she asked Diggle.

“Yeah, Thea. Come with me,” he said and took her toward the wine storage room.

 “We can’t waste any more time,” Oliver said, defeated, and they headed to the lair.

He immediately began to gather his weapons as Felicity ran preliminary searches on Malcolm. She watched him forcefully slap his quiver against the table as he grabbed his face paint. There was a nearly undetectable tremor in his fingers.

“Oliver,” she called. He did not show any sign of hearing her. “Oliver,” she said more loudly. She held his shaking hand and gently pulled the paint away from his grasp. “Oliver, look at me.” Felicity held his face in her hands. He blinked once or twice, but she had seen his eyes reddening as they welled up with tears.

“Hey. You can let go. Thea is upset, but she’ll see you the way I see you: a man who will sacrifice _everything_ to save the lives of everyone around him.”

He sniffled, and held onto her hands that were still holding his face. “No, I can’t. I, I need to fix this. I need to find him. He can’t get to Thea. He, he can’t.”

“Shh. Oliver,” she wiped his tears with her thumbs, “I can’t begin to understand what you are feeling with everything that is going on, but I’m here. This is _your_ moment. You deserve to feel everything right now.  Let it go.”

Her words were finally filling his heart and each one resonated in his core. She was giving him permission to be vulnerable for just a little while. He buried his face in her shoulder, hitched sobs echoing the foundry. She rubbed his back, back and forth. “It’s okay. Let it go, let it go,” she kept whispering tenderly in his ear. He desperately clung onto her, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist and fisting her shirt.  All the moments leading up this one was fading; his mother’s death, Thea’s words, Slade’s return. All of it, slowly dissipating with each breath he took.  His sobs eventually turned into quiet weeping.

Oliver loosened his grip around her waist to peer down at her. Her eyes were filled with tears too, and he gently took her glasses off and placed them on the table. He wiped her tears away, forgetting about his tear-drenched face. She beamed at him and began to wipe his tears as well.  After he placed her glasses back on her, he held her forehead to his.

“Thank you,” he murmured and released his grip on her. He straightened his shoulders and without saying another word, he began to suit up.

“Always,” she said, “always.”


End file.
